


Solitary

by Ourladyofresurrection



Series: BFU Requests [5]
Category: Buzzfeed Unsolved (Web Series)
Genre: Fluff, Hugs, I’m a sucker for hurt and comfort fics, M/M, Requests!, Ryan is scared, Shane is Shane, Solitary Confinement, could be read as platonic, look - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-03
Updated: 2019-06-03
Packaged: 2020-04-07 10:34:28
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,004
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19083277
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ourladyofresurrection/pseuds/Ourladyofresurrection
Summary: For @hallowwen on Tumblr: “for the prompty thing: 7 -  “No way! Absolutely not!” (:”/When stuck in solitary confinement for five minutes, Ryan hears an unnerving message on the spirit box.(OR: Ryan’s scared and Shane helps)





	Solitary

“No way! Absolutely not!”

Shane smiled, shaking his head, “C’mon, Ry, you scared the ghosties are gonna get you?”

“S-shut up, Shane!”

“C’mon, boogara. Just five minutes of solitary confinement, alright?”

Ryan sighed, already brandishing the spirit box and wearing the look of a troubled soul, “I really hate you sometimes, I hope you know that.”

“That’s the spirit, baby!”

With one last silent plea of his eyes, (which Shane promptly ignored), he was ushered into the small holding cell.

His tall ghoulfriend shot him a thumbs up way too enthusiastically for a man who was about to send his best friend to certain doom. As soon as the creaky door clicked shut, the room was enveloped in darkness, just the flashing red signal of his camcorder providing some muted light that Ryan wished he could thrust himself into.

Just the rapid, unsteady sounds of his breathing, his heart running rampant in his chest, the cool chill to the air and the dank, heady smell of mildew.

Ryan shivered, despite being clad in a soft sweater.

“God, I just remembered how much I fuckin’ hate these investigations,” he muttered, swiping at his nose as it inexplicably began to run.

“Four minutes!” Shane called from the outside.

The walls sounded like something was dripping off of them, maybe behind them. The thought of something oozing off the concrete walls, the thought of blood cascading down the cell made Ryan’s heart stutter in his throat, and sent a wave of nausea crashing onto him.

He could just imagine Shane’s stupid face telling him all about how things called pipes exist, and at that moment, Ryan wished he could be hearing that right now. Anything other than this suffocating silence.

“Do not be afraid, do not be afraid, do not be a—“

A bang on the door, “Four minutes! Spirit box time!”

Ryan let out a strangled ‘gah,’ fumbling with the contraption with shaky hands, switching it to ‘on’  
and hearing the typical garbled chirp of radio waves.

“God, why did I even get this thing in the first place,” he muttered, holding it in his hands and inhaling deeply, “hello? Is anyone in here with me?”

In response, nothing but various syllables of passing stations. Nothing out of the usual.

It couldn’t have been too long, but in the time the spirit box rambled, Shane knocked twice more on the door, each signalling another minute.

“My name is Ryan,” he breathed, “God, fuck. Sorry, it must have been real hard for you guys in here...”

A few whirs, jumbled up parts of conversation. But apart from that, silence lay steady in the room. Just as he was about to say something else, the spirit box produced a reply.

“Ry-an.”

He jumped back, yelping, nearly whacking his back against the cold, hard wall. Outside, he could distinctly hear Shane telling him he had one minute left.

Do not be afraid, do not be afraid, do not be afraid.

Ryan laughed nervously, “Okay, I know you didn’t just say that.”

No response.

He tried again, “I...I hate to ask this, but is anyone in here with me? Any troubled souls? Maybe you’re having trouble passing thr—“

“Ry-an,” he heard again, but this time in his ear.

It was so cold, so close, so fucking undeniably real that perhaps at a later time when he wasn’t fearing for his life, he’d be mad it surely didn’t get picked up on film.

“Thirty seconds!” Shane called.

“N-no, no...” Ryan whimpered, pressing his body firmly against the wall, cowering as the room seemed to drop ten degrees.

Just the sounds of the spirit box crackling, his own laboured breaths putting him in danger of asphyxiation and the whispers of the room.

“Aaand, that’s time!” he hardly heard Shane call over the swimming in his ears.

Ryan pushed on the door at the same time Shane opened it, sending him tumbling into his arms, his grip tight on his biceps.

“Woah there, buddy,” he laughed, hands automatically finding the small of Ryan’s back to support him as he leaned heavily on his friend.

“H-he...it said my name.”

“The ghost did?” Shane asked, chuckling.

“Yes! Twice!” 

When met with Shane’s concerned, but nevertheless skeptical face, he pleaded, “I’m not lying!”

“Hey, hey, I don’t think you’re lying! I’m sure you tho—“

“Not thought, I heard it with my own ears, Shane!”

The tall man, realizing how fragile and vulnerable he was at the moment, conceded. He may be an asshole, but he had some limits— most of them ending at Ryan.

“Okay, alright. It’s okay Ryan,” he soothed, leaning down slightly to somewhat envelope him.

Ryan just pressed closer into his chest, shivering. He sneezed softly, Shane pressing a hand to his forehead on suspicion.

“Buddy, you’re ice cold. You coming down with something?”

Ryan shrugged, but the gesture was lost in the full body shake that wracked through him, vibrating against Shane’s hold.

“Okay, alright, shhhh, it’s okay.”

He shot a helpless glance at T.J. who had been gratuitously silent the entire ordeal, silently persuading him to pack up the gear and get going.

T.J., the good man, just nodded softly and started dismantling their equipment. Shane redirected his focus back to Ryan.

“Tell ya what, Ry, we get out of here and go back to mine to watch Mission Impossible and have popcorn, sound good?”

Ryan pulled away slightly, “But you haven’t done your solo session yet.”

“Bah,” Shane batted a hand, “I’ll talk to the ghosties next time. I’m sure we’ll have lots to catch up on.”

Ryan chuckled, “S-shut up Shane.”

“There he is!” he grinned, slapping his ghoulfriend on the back.

They made their way out of the prison, the sound of their footfalls the only noise echoing throughout the building besides the quiet conversation that could be heard.

“I’m gonna hold your hand, I don’t care,” Ryan muttered, much like how he had at the Sallie House.

Shane chuckled, “Alright.”

“Shut up, Shane.”


End file.
